MHA: I Am Homelander

Holy crap, I did not expect to already hit 100 powerstones so quickly. Thank to you all, seriously.

Now...since we were able to hit that hurdle, why don't we go for the next?

200 powerstones = 1 extra chapter? Sound about fair? 

Whether we hit it or not, you guys deserve this so enjoy.

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In one of Musutafu's grittiest districts, where graffitied walls and flickering streetlamps were more common than police patrols, a cloaked figure approached a rundown apartment building.

Its windows were shattered, the metal gate rusted off its hinges.

The figure was Loid, disguised again—this time in a familiar mirrored mask and a long tattered cloak.

"This is it?" he muttered.

Outside the entrance sat a man in a lawn chair, a cigarette between his lips and a newspaper stretched wide in his hands, large round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

The man didn't even glance up as Loid stepped closer.

Without speaking, Loid pulled out the flyer.

The man finally looked, lowering the paper just enough to see the single-line invitation.

"Division 4, huh?" he said, taking a drag. "You're the real deal. Well… almost. There's still a whole division above you."

Loid stared. "Division?"

The man nodded. "Five floors. Five divisions. The deeper you go, the deadlier it gets."

He waved a lazy hand toward the doorway.

"Go on in."

Loid started forward, but hesitated just long enough to throw out a vague question. "So this… fight club…?"

The man chuckled, never taking his eyes off the paper. "Fight club? I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a guy who likes newspapers."

***

Inside, the broken interior transformed.

Gone were the cracked tiles and moldy walls. Instead, the space expanded into a vast underground floor with reinforced concrete walls, steel pillars, and makeshift lighting strung above.

Hundreds of shadowy figures crowded around a ring carved into the floor. Their roars filled the cavernous space as fists flew in the center.

Loid narrowed his eyes. "A camouflage Quirk… This place is hidden in plain sight. But not completely—otherwise I wouldn't have heard it."

He melted into the crowd, just in time to watch a brutal match end.

A mountain of a blue skinned man—barrel-chested, arms like steel girders—stood triumphant, bellowing like a gorilla as his opponent lay twitching.

A commentator with a mic rushed into the ring. "And once again, your undefeated champion of Division 4 stands tall! Give it up!"

The crowd howled.

"But tonight… is different!" the commentator continued. "Tonight, our champ rises to Division 5! So we're giving all of you one last chance!"

He pointed toward the audience.

"Anyone who can take him down gets a third of tonight's revenue!"

Silence.

"Anyone?"

A single hand rose.

"There, we have a contender. Make way."

The spotlight turned to a figure in a cloak and mirrored mask as he stepped forward, the crowd splitting for him, almost every individual he walked by sizing him up, all coming to the same conclusion.

He's toast.

He was nearly in the ring when the commentator paused, eyes narrowing.

Another announcer rushed up and whispered something into his ear.

The commentator looked at Loid, his showman's smile disappearing with a sigh. "You're late. Your match was scheduled earlier. Your slot's been forfeited."

Loid shrugged. "Then give me this one."

The commentator sighed. "Not my call. All decisions go to "him". And since you're new here, you should know..."

He raised his two fingers as he continued.

"There are two rules in Fight Club. Rule number 1, you do not talk about Fight Club, and Rule number 2, you do not talk about Fight Club." He finished, turning away, the final words from the man outside suddenly making sense to Loid.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The commentator roared as the crowd listened, growing more impatient by the second.

"It seems this contender here is the same one who failed to show up for the match before this."

BOOO

The crowd jeered as they scorned Loid. They paid good money to be here and they couldn't even get the full event's worth of entertainment.

"I know, I know, and I'm with you on this one. But you know how things go around here. We don't make the decisions. He does." The commentator's head nodded to a dark corner.

Loid's gaze followed the gesture.

A man sat slouched outside the ring, hunched over with a cane and a tall top hat. His face was hidden, but the space around him was oddly empty, as if the crowd instinctively gave him room.

"Who's that? And why him?" Loid asked, to which the commentator whispered back.

"Some say it's a Quirk," the commentator started, his eyes never leaving the man. "Some say it's instinct. But The Spectator sees things in people. Prospects. Killers. Monsters. He sees potential and makes all the decisions around here."

Loid narrowed his eyes, unable to catch a glimpse of the man's face. Therefore, focusing his eyes, he concentrated, a sign of his X-Ray vision.

Then, he froze, taken aback.

"…What the hell is he doing here?"

Meanwhile, the crowd fell silent as the Spectator raised his hand, thumb sideways…

Then slowly turned it upright.

The crowd erupted.

The commentator grinned. "Well folks, it looks like we have a fight after all!"

Loid turned to his opponent—a sweating blue brute, veins pulsing.

"This'll be fun," Loid muttered.

He threw off his cloak.

"No heat vision," he reminded himself. "Too recognizable, unlike before, I can't kill everyone here."

The commentator tried to count down.

Didn't matter.

The Chamo charged, drool flying out of his mouth as he went, raising his fist as the crowd and commentator's lips all curled upwards in succession.

[Name: The Champ]

[Quirk: Berserk]

[Description: The more he fights, the stronger he gets, as shown by his blue skin...at the sacrifice of his own intelligence that is.]

But Loid...he didn't move.

SMACK!

Silence descended as every single viewer's face froze, then deflated in a frown as they all watched.

The punch stopped. Cold, a single hand grabbing the hulking Champ's fist.

The commentator stammered, trying his best to do his job, "H-He caught it! And now it seems as though he's raising his fist to counterattack...h-however, if we know anything about our Champ, is that his offense is so great because of his immense defense..."

BANG!

Loid slammed his fist into the man's face.

The champ staggered back a few feet, forcing his eyes back from rolling into his skull while shaking his head.

The champ swung wildly—hit Loid square in the jaw.

Loid didn't budge, almost as if he let the punch hit him just to mock his opponent.

Then he moved.

A blur of fists. Rapid-fire punches. The champion's defense crumbled with each impact, dropping to his back.

But Loid didn't let up.

Gut wrenching noises filled the air with every punch, any sign og

Blood flew.

The crowd stared, silent.

The commentator dropped his mic.

Then, as Loid rose to his feet, scanning the crowd as his head drifted across the space, he abruptly spread his arms.

And this seemed to be enough to snap them out of their trance because in the next second... 

ROAAAAAAR!

The place exploded.

"Yup...there it is." 

This time, unlike last time, Loid didn't even smile.

No, his expression was straight as he basked in the chants, the roars and cheers.

So far into his time with his Quirk...well, simply put, something like this was to be expected.

"Meaningless life worshipping power...that's just natural."

The commentator picked up the sack of money, stumbling over his words as he handed it over. "Y-You're the real deal."

Loid snatched the mic. "I know, but I want more."

The crowd hushed as Loid snatched the mic away from the commentator.

"I want his spot in Division 5, considering I don't think he'll be getting up soon...or at all. You all saw what I did. Can you really deny the audience that kind of entertainment? This is Fight Club, for god's sake!"

Cheers surged again. But Loid was already turning.

"It's not even up to you," he told the commentator. "It's up to him, so what do you say, Spectator?"

All eyes turned.

The Spectator said nothing, instead raising his hand…

…and the thumb turned upright.

Loid grinned as the crowd burst uncontrollably like never before, the boy tossing back the mic as he walked away, brown sack over his shoulder.

"Well, there you have it folks. Our new Champ will be taking our old Champ's debut fight in Division 5 tomorrow night. Don't be late this time!"

The commentator finished, trying his best to make his voice heard from among the roars of the crowd as Loid arrogantly walked through them.

"Never!"

***

Later that night, Loid dumped his mask, cloak, and blood-streaked clothes in a dumpster, burying the money beneath a tarp.

As he scaled the side of the orphanage, his heart still buzzed with adrenaline, making him grin from time to time just from thinking about it.

However, despite that, he still couldn't get one thought off his mind as he climbed through his still open window.

"I mean, why would the doctor who examines Quirks be in a place like that..."

CLICK

The light flicked on as Loid turned, only to find a familiar face sitting on his bed, legs crossed and waiting.

"Oh...hey Kazuo."

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As I said, 200 powerstones = 1 chapter.

Until then, enjoy this much and thank you all.